🐾 The Puppy Principles

The Story Behind The Puppy Principles

🐾 How It All Began

Growing up, I never had dogs or pets of any kind. My first experience with having a dog came when I was married to my first wife in the Philippines. We had a boxer named Bronco, and my kids absolutely loved him. Unfortunately, my time with Bronco was short lived because my wife and I separated soon after getting him. Even though I didn’t spend much time with Bronco, I did love that dog.

Later, when I was living in Los Angeles, I got my first real pet – a unique dog named Bogey. He was part Afghan Hound, part Gordon Setter, and something else. Bogey looked like a very thin German Shepherd, and when I held him, he would almost purr like a kitten. I trained him well – he could walk beside me without a leash and would stay put even if I walked 30 yards away. I loved that dog. Unfortunately, after my girlfriend and I separated, I couldn’t keep him as I moved to an apartment that didn’t allow pets. One day, after a hike with my ex-girlfriend in the mountains on a 90-degree day, Bogey experienced heat exhaustion went to the vet but sadly passed away.  The ex-girlfriend called me about 5 days after it happened. It was heart-breaking. 

🐾 Learning to Love Little Dogs

For the longest time, I didn’t think of small dogs as real dogs. Nor did I think it was ‘manly’ to have a little dog. That changed when I met Michelle. When we first got together, Michelle already had two little dogs – Lilly and Carly. Lilly is a Shih Tzu Havanese (or as Michelle jokes, a “Havashit”), and Carly is a Yorkie Havanese. At first, I wasn’t excited about having little dogs but they were part of the ‘package’ of Michelle and I being together.  Very quickly those two girls, Lilly and Carly grew on me, and I couldn’t imagine life without them. 

Both Lilly and Carly have their own unique personalities and tricks. Lilly can jump up for treats, roll over, and even do a “touchdown” dance, at least she used to-more on her story later. Carly plays dead when we say “bang”.  Michelle taught them these tricks, and over time, I learned how to do them too, not the tricks, I learned how to lead the girls in doing their tricks.
 

Michelle has an incredible way of understanding dogs – she “speaks puppy.” When Lilly or Carly make sounds or gestures, Michelle is so in tune with them she can decode what they’re saying. I’m still learning how to understand what our puppies are trying to tell us.

🐾 Our First Puppy Together: Bruno

Our first puppy together was Bruno. On Valentine’s Day, Michelle’s coworker, who had a litter of chihuahuas, was giving one away to a neighbor. When Michelle and her friend Sheri took the puppy over, they realized the environment wasn’t right for such a tiny dog. Concerned for his safety, they brought him back to me and said, “Wouldn’t this be a great Valentine’s gift for Michelle?” And just like that, Bruno became ours.

We named him Bruno, not after the singer Bruno Mars, but after my grandfather from Yugoslavia, Bruno Lenac. Bruno was a three-and-a-half-pound, full-blooded mini chihuahua – what Michelle likes to call a “margarita glass chihuahua.”

For a while, it was just the three of them: Lilly, Carly, and Bruno. We took them on cross-country road trips to visit family in St. Louis and throughout the Midwest. I grew to really love those three.

🐾 The Idea of The Puppy Principles

About seven years ago, I first came up with the idea for The Puppy Principles. It was inspired by a combination of The Success Principles by Jack Canfield, The Secret, and Chicken Soup for the Soul. I thought wouldn’t it be great to have a book that reflects that style – a variety of stories, inspiration, wisdom, and life lessons, all told through the eyes of puppy parents? I registered the domain ThePuppyPrinciples.com and kept it for years, waiting for the right time to launch the project.

It wasn’t until our family was truly complete that the vision came to life. Now, our pack until recently included six puppies: Lilly, Carly, Bruno, Yeti-Boy, Ravyn, and Rascal. Over the years, Michelle and I have supported, fostered, foster-failed, and promoted rescue organizations in both St. Louis and Las Vegas. I’ve come to realize that when dogs – are truly loved and cared for, they fulfill their God-given purpose: to provide us with companionship, unconditional love, affection, and pure joy.

🐾 Why The Puppy Principles Matters

This project is more than just a book; it’s a celebration of the deep bond we share with our dogs and the profound life lessons they teach us. It’s a movement of connection, inspiration, and love – driven by the joy that our four-legged, furry family members bring into our lives.

I can’t wait to share these stories with the world and honor the beautiful ways our dogs make us better humans.

Christoff J Weihman

Things I’ve Learned from Our Dogs (That Changed How I Live, Love, and Lead)

If you’ve spent five minutes with me, you know—I’m a dog mom through and through.

Not just “I love animals” kind of dog mom. I’m the make-their-food, rearrange-my-schedule, rescue-when-I-can, kiss-their-forehead-daily kind of dog mom. These furballs aren’t just part of my life—they’re part of ourlife. Christoff and I have built a home full of chaos, love, barking, snuggles, and a whole lot of fur.

Over the years, we’ve welcomed dogs who needed a second chance—and honestly, they gave us just as much in return. Some found us. Some were chosen. But all of them became part of something bigger: our family, our story, our healing.

As a nurse, coach, and woman who’s walked through some heavy things, I’ve learned from textbooks, from stages, and from lived experience. But some of the most powerful lessons? They came from paws, not people. From tail wags that reminded me joy is found in the present. From eyes that looked at us like we were home.

Each dog has carried a different piece of our journey. And each one—still with us or passed—has left paw prints on our hearts.

🐾Lilly

Lilly is our wise girl. At 14 years old, she lost her sight—but she never lost her sense of purpose. She still walks with intention, memorizing the layout of the house and navigating each room like a little furry compass. She’s had to adjust in a world that suddenly went dark, and we’ve watched her do it with a kind of quiet bravery I wish the whole world could see.

Sure, she panics sometimes. She’ll spin in circles until she finds a familiar scent or a sound she trusts but she always regains her footing. She doesn't let her limitations define her, and she’s reminded both of us that we can keep moving forward, even when the path looks different than we imagined. She doesn’t waste time feeling sorry for herself. She simply keeps going.

Lilly taught me: Resilience is quiet, but fierce.

🐾Carly

Carly is a master of communicating her needs, the Queen of Sassy. One hand petting her is not enough. She will look at you with total expectation until both hands are fully engaged—and you will comply. She is direct, unapologetic, and charming as hell.

She knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. And if you ignore her? She’ll ask again. Carly reminds me daily that asking for what you need isn’t dramatic, needy, or extra—it’s self-aware. She has helped me reclaim my right to speak up, to take up space, and to expect love that meets me where I am.

She’s not demanding. She’s clear. She’s shown us that receiving love fully is a practice of strength, not weakness.

Carly taught me: Asking for what you need is a form of self-love.

🐾Bruno

Bruno was just four pounds, but he carried a presence far bigger than his frame. He was my little shadow, my soft place, my protector in the tiniest packaging. He followed me everywhere—not for attention, but because I was his person.

He was mine in a way that can’t fully be put into words. Christoff loved him too—he saw how deep that bond ran. Losing Bruno broke something open in both of us. And still, even now, I feel his love echoing through the house. 

Bruno taught me: Love stays with you forever.

🐾Yeti-Boy

Yeti-Boy takes his job seriously. He’s all muscle, no nonsense. If someone even thinksabout walking past our home, he’s on it—alert, barking, and marching through the yard like he’s on patrol. He scans the fence line like a sentry, guarding not just the house, but the hearts inside it. And when we’re all finally home and safe, then he can rest.

He’s taught us that being protective is about deep, steady love. The kind of love that says, “I’ve got you,” without needing to be soft about it. He shows up for his people with everything he’s got. Every time.

Yeti-Boy taught me: True strength is steady.

🐾Ravyn

Ravyn is the soul of the pack. She’s the softest energy I’ve ever known. She checks on everyone in the house—every pup, every person, every moment. She seems to feel energy like a frequency, adjusting her presence accordingly: quiet when you’re heavy, cuddly when you need comfort, joyful when your spirit lifts.

She doesn’t demand anything. And yet, somehow, she holds everyone together. Ravyn’s presence shifts the air. Her kindness doesn’t need to be announced. It simply arrives and makes everything better. She’s reminded me that being tender is a strength, not a liability. She teaches that the kindest hearts often carry the most courage—and share it freely with the rest of us.

Ravyn taught me: Kindness is a Superpower.

🐾Rascal

Rascal came to us at 14 years old—tiny, frail, quiet, and completely shut down.. We later learned he’d been left behind when his “mom” moved out of state. Found wandering the streets, he was brought into rescue—stiff, fragile, and seemingly invisible to the world.

When we brought him home, he didn’t bark. He barely looked at us. It was like he had disappeared into himself. He barely walked. He had learned not to take up space.

But over time—with love, safety, and presence—he began to emerge. 

The first time he barked, at first we froze, then we grabbed our camera to record it. Something shifted. He wasn’t just surviving anymore—he was livingagain.. And now? Rascal lets the world know he’s still here. That he may be 5 pounds, but he’s strong, and he matters. He struts through the house like a king, barking at the world as if to say, “You forgot about me—but I never left.”

Rascal taught me: Healing happens when we feel safe to be seen.

These six dogs aren’t just pets. They have shaped us—individually and as partners. They’ve held space during some of our hardest seasons. They’ve brought laughter, grounding, and the kind of love that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

They’re soulmates, teachers, and reminders that healing is possible, joy is everywhere, and love—when given freely—can transform everything. And they are why we will always Dare to Care.

Always remember that Caring is Cool. 💜

Michelle Weihman